


A Lack of Colour

by wemustreinventlove



Category: Cobra Starship, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is..., there's like a tiny bit of panic in here so
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wemustreinventlove/pseuds/wemustreinventlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe Saporta is an independent artist. After unknowingly buying magic charcoal from Ryan Ross, he draws a beautiful man from his imagination. Later, Gabe finds the man from his drawing alive and speaking to him in his room. Gabe and his charcoal companion, William, struggle to deal with William’s lack of colour and finding a solution, among other problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lack of Colour

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest fic I've written to date! I actually wrote it for a French short story assignment (speaking of, if anyone is interested in reading the french version I'll gladly post it- just ask!) and then translated it myself to English. I posted this on tumblr a while ago and figured I should post it here for people who don't follow me or missed it when I posted it. I'm really lazy, though, and I didn't go over this and check for spelling/grammar/etc. errors. I'm sorry if there are any.

A light breeze flows past the curtains and glides across Gabe's cheeks. He groans at the feeling and pulls his duvet farther up to cover his nose. The curtains flutter again, as if beckoning him to wake up. He opens his eyes, glaring at the open window, cursing himself for not closing it the night before.

Gabe rolls out of bed, dragging his duvet behind him and shrugging it on to his shoulders. Shivering, he approaches the window and slams it closed angrily.

His bedroom door swings open.

"Good morning, Gabriel," his roommate, Victoria, croons lightly.

She’s standing in the doorway smiling, a satin robe hanging loosely off her shoulders and her long curly black hair tossed into a bun in the middle of her head. Gabe almost growls at her. How can she be so happy in the morning?

“It’s noon, Gabe,” she states, reading his mind or something, rolling her eyes and exiting his room.

“Close the door!” he yells after her, but she doesn’t so much as turn to look at him.

Gabe huffs and drops the duvet from his shoulders, trailing after her into the apartment. The living room is still a mess from the friends they had over last night, pizza boxes, playing cards and DVDs littering the floor. Gabe looks to Victoria expectantly.

“I’m not cleaning it up,” She raises a brow at him, “it was your friends who were over.”

“You’re friends with them too,” he grumbles, leaning down to pick up a pizza box off the floor. He lifts the lid to check for leftovers. Nothing.

“True,” Victoria nods, “but you invited them over.”

Gabe sighs. “Later,” he says, “right now, I’m starving.”

Victoria gestures to an open pizza box on the kitchen counter.

“Knock yourself out.”

Grabbing a piece of cold, greasy pizza, Gabe thanks her and exits the room. She yells something about him still needing to clean up the living room, but he just pretends he doesn’t hear her and continues walking. He reaches his bedroom, shovels the remaining pizza into his mouth and opens his closet. Gabe throws on a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt. He doesn’t plan on leaving the house today so it isn’t really a concern what he looks like.

Once he’s dressed, he heads into the washroom quickly. Looking in the mirror he can see there are bags under his eyes, his curly mess of hair is more of a bird’s nest and he’s growing patchy, prickly stubble across the tan skin on his chin. Gabe sighs, trying to smooth out the tangles on his head with his fingers. It’s good enough.

Victoria is no longer in the kitchen when he leaves the bathroom. There’s a note on the table:

 

_went out to buy some actual food. all we’ve got in the fridge is leftover takeout and half a bottle of soda._

_-vicky_

Gabe nods at the note. It’s probably good she’s gone out for groceries. He can’t remember the last time he’s eaten something other than week old pad thai or cold pizza. Not that it really matters to his taste buds, but it’s probably not healthy. Victoria is a little more picky with her food, though, she’s been complaining about the lack of nutrition since the last time they bought groceries.

He pads into the living room, being careful not to step on any trash from the night before. It would be a good idea to clean this up while Victoria is gone, but he knows she’ll crack and clean it herself if Gabe leaves it long enough. He doesn’t really feel like cleaning. Actually, he’s dying to draw. He hasn’t had any inspiration in forever and he’s just been hit with a giant wave of creativity.

When he reaches his bedroom and grabs his sketch pad from his night side table, he notices his last piece of charcoal is gone. It’s irresponsible of a professional artist to not be stocked up on supplies, but Gabe has never really been that responsible has he? Sighing, he grabs a hoodie and his wallet.

Outside it is cold and wet. There is a frigid spring wind, threatening to almost tip him over. The sun shines down and makes his brown eyes sparkle like gold when he looks upwards.

The nearest art supply store is only about seven or so blocks away. Gabe figures he can walk. While walking, he notices the patterns in the cracks of the sidewalk, the tiny buds blossoming from tree branches and the reflection of strangers in puddles.

This time of year always reminds him of the first painting he ever sold. The scenery he had created was much the same as the scenery he now walks through. At the time, he’d been selling small canvases on street corners during city craft fairs and festivals. A young woman approached him. There was nothing special about her, she had mousy brown hair, some kind of organic handmade hippie coat and carried herself just a little lower and less confidently than the people around her. She had approached Gabe with a smile, and quickly pointed out a painting to the far left of Gabe. The asking price was only a mere $20, but the woman insisted she pay more. That day, Gabe had gone home $150 richer.

Gabe had later heard that the woman actually ran a small local art gallery and had displayed the painting. During her grand opening, she was asked many times about the painting of the cosy cobblestone street in the springtime. Later, she managed to track down Gabe at another craft show and mention his success in her gallery. A few of her art critic friends were extremely pleased with his work and wanted to buy his pieces for their own homes.

That would be the moment Gabe counted as becoming successful. No, he wasn’t known all around the world or even the country, but he was rising quickly in his own city and word travels fast. He was proud of himself and he had come farther than he thought he would in his four short years out of art school.

Currently, Gabe is working on a collection of charcoal drawn portraits. He observes the people he sees around him, all strangers, and draws them. He figures once he acquires enough it will make a beautiful collection and a wonderful set for his next show.

Gabe is shaken abruptly out of his memory when a cyclist flys past him, splashing up water from a dirty puddle as they do. He narrows his eyes at the cyclist in the distance and shakes his head. He pulls off his soaking hoodie and wrings it out over the damp road. It doesn’t do much. Sighing, he continues on his way, now shivering a little bit with his arms exposed.

Seven blocks from his apartment complex, he looks up. There is no sign for Allie’s Art House anymore, a new sign yells Art Fever! back at him. Well, it still seems to be an art store, nonetheless.

A bell chimes when he enters. The white, clean atmosphere of Allie’s has been replaced with a colourful, over the top store. There is some kind of weird music playing, it sounds like someone using a blender to play a trumpet while another person plays banjo and keytar simultaneously. The walls are painted alternating shades of orange and red, Gabe feels like he is going to go blind. In the middle of the store, a large chandelier hangs. The ceilings in this place are too low for something like that.

His head is starting to pound. God, he needs to get out of here quickly. Turning, he accidentally slams into a kid smaller than him who doesn’t look much older than nineteen. His face is covered in crazy black and purple swirled stage makeup, half hidden by the dark brown hair crossing his forehead. Brendon his nametag reads.

“Hey! How can I help you?” Brendon asks, too much enthusiasm in his voice,

“Uh, I just need charcoal. Anything. I’m in a rush,” Gabe answers, blinking quickly to save his eyes from the colours glaring back at him from the walls.

“Sure! There’s some up by the front counter!” Brendon singsongs to him. What the hell is wrong with this kid? Who can be so damn cheery in a place like this?

“Thanks,” Gabe says.

He makes his way to the front counter and looks around. Cheap paint brushes, tiny starter art sets, no charcoal. He turns to the guy lounging at the front counter. He’s got stage makeup too, red and black… birds, maybe? His hair is styled into some kind of fake mohawk.

Gabe coughs. The guy doesn’t bother turning to him. He’s got headphones in. Gabe rings the tiny bell beside the register. Nothing.

“Ryan!” He yells, reading the guys name tag.

His head snaps up. He pulls out his headphones, glaring at Gabe.

“Yeah,” he says.

“I need charcoal. That one,” Gabe turns and gestures to Brendon, “told me it was up here. I can’t find any.”

Ryan sighs and stands up, hopping over the counter and joining Gabe on the other side. He shuffles around the racks surrounding them.

“Yeah, nothing.”

“Okay. Yeah. No. I know there’s nothing. I need some though,” Gabe replies, dumbfounded by the workers in this place.

Ryan sighs again, sliding back over the counter. He crouches down and pulls up a box of charcoal.

“Last one,” he states, handing it to Gabe.

“Great. Thanks,” Gabe says, exasperated. “How much?”

Ryan shrugs. “Hell if I know. There’s no price sticker on it. Just go,” he shoos Gabe with his hand.

How rude. Gabe decides he’s definitely not going there again, even if it means commuting across town to buy supplies.

Outside it’s started to cool off even more. Gabe’s hoodie is still soaked, so he decides to jog the rest of the way home to avoid hypothermia.

He reaches the apartment and upon opening the door, sees Victoria’s shoes tucked neatly into their usual spot. He’s glad she’s back. When was the last time he ate? Well, noon, but it’s been… three hours and he’s got a fast metabolism.

“Vickyyyy,” he calls, “I’m starving, tell me you picked up something good.”

“Sure did,” she appears in the kitchen as Gabe closes the door, “but you’re not getting any until the living room is cleaned up. Better get to it.”

Gabe makes a puppy dog face at her. “Fine, I wasn’t hungry anyway. I’ll eat later,” he marches off like an angry teenager and slips into his bedroom.

He grabs his sketchbook off his bed and sets it up against his easel. Sitting down on the stool in front of it, he stretches and groans. Sunlight is barely splintering in through the slits in the curtains, so he pulls open the ones nearest him and smiles into the natural light. Natural lighting like this helps him think. It gets him feeling alive and working well.

The charcoal he bought is in the pocket of his jeans, he fishes it out. Sliding open the box, he notices there is one sole piece of it. He mutters softly to himself, something about the unreliable shop. Sighing, he picks up the lonely piece. He should be able to get a drawing or two out of this, even with the small size.

As Gabe lifts the chalky piece up to the paper, his mind freezes up. He wasn’t really paying attention to any faces today. He could draw the workers at the art shop, with that makeup their faces aren’t easy to forget, but he doesn’t feel like having to stare at the annoying pair for however long this will take. He sighs. What if he tried drawing from his imagination?

Why not?

Gabe lifts the charcoal again, beginning to make marks on his paper. He draws a round face, with a protruding chin and a crease in the middle. He gives the head a detailed bunch of flowing locks, falling at shoulder length, some pieces curling inwards and outwards, some hanging straight down. A thin long neck is next, attached to sharp shoulders and collarbones.

This isn’t going so bad, really. The person looks like they could turn out to be kind of attractive, actually.

Then, he draws a pair of ears that stick out slightly from behind the messy hair. He gives the person high cheekbones and straight, dark eyebrows. It seems to be a man now, Gabe can make out certain features that would usually belong to a man. He shrugs off the long hair and continues with this idea.

The most important part is next, the eyes. Gabe draws dark, round pupils and curves the eyes into an almond shape. They’re lifted at the corners, in a smile or even a smirk. He puts far more detail into them than that which is necessary, adding highlights to show how they glint in the sunlight and a light matte to soften them, giving them a comforting glow.

The nose is pointed out, with a little bump in the middle. He finishes with a pair of thin, light lips that are parted slightly to show a few cutely crooked teeth. Then he shades the skin, adding a bit more darkness around the cheeks for a rosy look and adds more texture to the hair.

Sitting back and looking at his work, he’s pretty proud of it. Gabe usually draws and paints from life, he tends to avoid things that he can’t plan out and have an exact idea of where he’s going with it. This one looks good though. Actually, he’s extremely pleased with it. Maybe he should draw more for this guy. Yeah. Maybe a full body picture.

He recreates the head on a new sheet of paper, but smaller and leaves room beneath it. Continuing from the shoulders, he draws thin arms, with wide palms and skinny, long fingers. He gives him a straight torso, hips that angle out a bit and lengthy legs to match his own height. It’s a pretty simple drawing, so he adds on a pair of skinny jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket. For shoes, he draws on a pair of high-top sneakers.

Gabe leans back, stretches and wipes the dust off his fingers, leaving grey marks across his pant legs. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since he started drawing, but the flashing clock around the room is telling him it’s nearly five. Oh, and boy is his stomach growling.

He sneaks into the hallway and past the living room without even glancing at it. As he’s sneaking to the fridge, Victoria speaks.

“I cleaned it up for you Gabe, Jesus,” she says, shaking her head.

Gabe smiles. “You know I love you,” he gives her a friendly hip bump, as his hands are full of food.

She rolls her eyes at him. Gabe just gives her a bright smile and continues to the living room. Tossing the food down beside him, he settles into the couch. The TV is playing some gossip entertainment show, and he figures that’s good enough. Fishing through the pile of food beside him, he pulls out a container of Nutella and a bag of strawberries. Victoria watches him with something between disgust and amusement as he shovels food into his mouth.

“You know,” she starts, “that food is meant to last more that one day.”

Gabe sticks his tongue out at her. He licks off his fingers and picks up the remaining food, placing it back into the fridge and cupboards. He yawns and stretches a bit, exposing the bottom of his stomach. He pulls his shirt back down.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he says, “I’m exhausted.”

Vicky nods. “Night,” she calls.

Gabe proceeds to the bathroom. He brushes his teeth and has a quick shower. He wraps a towel around his waist before exiting.

His bedroom is still slightly lit from the bit of natural light left from the sunset, so he doesn’t bother with turning on the lights. Gabe is slipping into a comfy pair of pyjamas when he sees something shift in the corner of his bedroom. A soft, elegant movement. It looks to be the shape of a person too. Cautiously, he backs slowly to his doorway, where he quickly flips on the lightswitch.

“Holy shit.”

Standing in the corner of the room, a frightened, deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, is…

It takes Gabe a moment.

His charcoal drawing?

The guy is standing there, exactly the way Gabe drew him. Long slender legs shaking, bony hands grasping the windowsill behind him, bright almond eyes wide and darting around the room. You could almost mistake him for a real person. Well, except for one thing.

The complete lack of colour in his skin, his hair, his eyes, his clothing, everything. He’s grey. Shaded and blended, but grey.

“Holy shit,” Gabe repeats.

The drawing (guy, maybe? Gabe isn’t sure what to call this) opens his mouth as if to speak, but shuts it quickly again. He bites his lip, his hands are twisting and look strained behind him. He’s… scared.

“Oh, God. I… are you?” Gabe stutters out.

“I don’t know…” the guy whispers.

“What is going on?” Gabe questions, running his hands through his hair. “Are you… my drawing?”

The guy nods. “Yes, yes. I think so. I remember your hands,” he releases the windowsill, taking a step forward with arms outreached almost as if to grab Gabe’s hands.

“Oh,” Gabe, ever so eloquent, replies. The guy is still staring intently at his hands. It’s kind of weird. “Um, do you have a, uh, name?”

Chewing his bottom lip the guy replies, “no, I don’t think so.”

Gabe hums. He rubs his hand on his forehead. God, this is so weird. He must be dreaming.

“Am I dreaming?”

“Um… no. I don’t think so. I know I’m not dreaming.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t know what’s going on. I think I’m crazy. I need to tell Victoria,” Gabe says and his drawing tips his head in confusion. “My roommate. She needs to know you exist so I know I’m not crazy.”

Gabe slowly glides over to the person and grabs the box of charcoal near him. He opens the bedroom door and gestures for the guy to follow.

“Vicky?” Gabe calls to the living room.

“I thought you were going to bed,” Victoria responds as she turns to face Gabe. “I- Oh my God. What is that?” Her eyes widen in shock and she shrinks into the couch a little.

“Uh, not what. Who, actually. This is,” Gabe looks around, searching for a name for the poor guy. The box of charcoal he holds is labelled Williamson High Quality Artists Charcoal. Okay, that will work. “This is William.”

His drawing, er, William, looks to him with wide eyes.

“Okay. You have a grey friend named William. That didn’t enter through the front door and you just pulled out of your bedroom…”

“Yes? No. Well, it’s kind of a funny story…” Gabe says, scratching the back of his neck. He sighs. “You see, I was out of charcoal earlier, right? So, I left and went to go walk to Allie’s Art House, except when I got there it was replaced with some weird place called Art Fever with an exclamation point. I go inside to buy some charcoal and all the employees are really weird. I keep asking and asking where to find charcoal but no one can find any and by the end of it one of the employees, Ryan I think, digs behind the counter and fishes out this box of charcoal.”

Victoria hops up and grabs the box from his hand. She holds it in her palm, turning it over a few times.

“Anyway,” Gabe continues, “he doesn’t even bother to charge me for it because he can’t find a price tag. Which is whatever, I don’t care or anything. So I head home and when I get here I sit down to start drawing and don’t have anyone to draw. I end up drawing some guy I make up in my head and that uses up the only piece of charcoal that was in the box.”

Gabe ends with a shrug. “I just went in there now and he was there. He says I drew him. He remembers my hands or something.”

By this point Victoria is looking at him even more shocked than before. “Is it crazy of me to believe this?” She asks.

“I’d be crazy long before you if it were,” Gabe shakes his head, turning and facing William, who is nervously winding his hands together.

“He’s not going to leave, like, charcoal dust everywhere, is he?” Victoria questions.

“That’s your main concern right now?” Gabe scoffs. “No, he hasn’t so you should be fine.”

Gabe lets out a sigh.

“What now?”

William is sitting in an armchair by the hall. He’s bobbing his leg up and down, playing with his hair and his eyes keep darting back and forth across the room. Gabe is still having a hard time looking at him. It feels really odd to see a person with no colour to them. Despite the colour missing from his person, when William sees GAbe staring at him an obvious ‘blush’ creeps into his cheeks. If you could call it that. The shading becomes darker around his face, but he understands either way.

“William,” Gabe snaps a little.

William’s head pops up. “Yes,” he nods, “I think I’d like to try out living. Like a real person. I mean, I am a person. What do people do for their lives?”

“Generally, we start off by being born. Since I’ve already kind of taken care of that… usually then we go to school for a long time, graduate and get a job.”

“No, no. No, no, no, no,” William replies, shaking his head. “Really living. Not existing. I’m doing that right now.”

That question leaves Gabe’s mouth hanging open, speechless.

 

Things are weird at first, but after about a week Victoria and Gabe both begin to get more comfortable with William. He’s a pretty nice guy actually. He’s funny and kind. He’s intelligent too, and Gabe isn’t sure where that came from, but he enjoys his company. William can make Gabe smile easily. He’s helpful, but quiet and shy. Gabe’s taken a strong liking to him and is glad he’s around.

When Gabe wakes the next morning, he makes an attempt to be quiet and not disturb William, but a floorboard creaks beneath his feet and suddenly William’s eyes are open and watching Gabe, intrigued, from a distance.

“I see you’re awake,” Gabe yawns as he stretches.

“Yes. I am,” William says nodding his head. “Are you making coffee? Can I have some?”

Gabe grabs a second mug out of the kitchen cupboard and turns on the coffeepot. He’s leaning back against the counter, still wearing his pajamas. William is sitting up beneath his blanket on the couch, staring back at Gabe. His eyes feel like they could pierce right through Gabe’s skull. Why did he spend so much time detailing them? Maybe he wouldn’t have if he had known his drawing would come to life. Hey, he’s got an idea.

The coffeepot clicks. Gabe pours both mugs full, then dumps in a few spoonfuls of sugar. He sits on the couch next to William and hands him one.

“So,” Gabe begins between sips of his bitter drink, “I have an idea of what to do today.”

William looks up at him with his doe eyes, still slurping down coffee.

“I was thinking we could go back to Art Fever! and talk to the employee there. He was pretty weird and he might have an idea of how… you’re possible,” Gabe kind of mumbles the last bit to himself, but he figures William can hear what he’s said by the way his face falls a little.

“Okay, but won’t people be put off by how I look?” William asks anxiously, bobbing his leg up and down, biting his lip.

Gabe thinks he looks kind of adorable looking up at him nervously like this. He laughs a little.

“That will be no problem.”

Gabe gets up and heads to his bedroom, looking behind him to make sure William is following. William is still seated on the couch, so Gabe jerks his head to the side towards his bedroom. William gasps a small ‘oh!’ of realization and jumps up from the couch, nearly spilling his coffee on the way.

Once they’re both standing in Gabe’s bedroom with his closet doors thrown open in search of clothes William opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it quickly. He doesn’t shut it fast enough to fool Gabe though, and now Gabe is turning to him asking him if he has something to say.

“Nothing,” William says, shaking his head. “Um, I like that one.”

“Purple hoodie it is,” Gabe exhales, fetching the item off the rack.

William smiles when Gabe hands it to him. Gabe smiles back, William has such a wonderful smile off paper. He tosses a pair of skinny jeans to William, a pair of sunglasses, gloves and a scarf.

“Wear all these in public and you’ll be fine,” Gabe tells him. “I’ll meet you by the front door after.”

Gabe leaves the bedroom and lets William change clothes. He can’t help but ponder a little bit about William’s smile now. The tiny barely crooked teeth poking out from behind his thin, pink lips. The way his eyes crinkle when the corners of his mouth curve up. Is it narcissistic to be attracted to your own work? No. Gabe isn’t attracted to him. He’s not his type. His type is human being. Not work of art gone wrong.

That’s when William finally leaves Gabe’s room, tugging on the clothes little bit. They don’t seem that comfortable, or a perfect fit since William’s body is thinner than Gabe’s. William seems to be okay, though. He’s the same height as Gabe, so nothing is too long.

“Ready to go,” William says, shoving his feet into a pair of torn up sneakers and tugging his scarf above his nose.

“Looks like it,” Gabe answers, unlocking the door and leading the way down the stairs.

The weather is much the same as the day Gabe drew William when they get outside. Gabe almost feels like he’s been sent back in time to fix this, until he catches William in the corner of his eye. He’s staring up at the blue sky, watching the branches of trees flutter in the wind. He almost giggles, giggles, when a little boy rollerskates past him, making him almost topple over. Looking down into a puddle by his feet seems to mesmerize him, enchanting him like a child. Gabe finds himself smiling at William’s wonder and he’s forgotten how much he loves having someone to share days like this with.

No. He shakes the thought from his head. No, he doesn’t mean that. William is just a stranger, his creation. He’s not real, Gabe doesn’t even know him. Gabe has to stop thinking these things.

William coughs loudly as Gabe walks. He abruptly turns to William.

“Yes?”

“Isn’t this the place we were looking for?” William asks, pointing up at the loud Art Fever! sign.

“Yes. Yeah, it is. Thanks for pointing it out. I didn’t even notice,” Gabe sighs pulling open the door.

“Is something on your mind?” William ponders, cocking his head in Gabe’s direction.

“It’s nothing, no,” Gabe says simply, shrugging off the comment as fast as possible.

“Hey! I’m Brendon!” Gabe is greeted by the tiny employee from before, Brendon, shouting excitedly in his face. “How can I help you?”

“I need to talk to Ryan,” Gabe replies, craning his neck a little to see across the store where the counter is.

“Why not me?” Brendon says with fake sadness (real? Gabe honestly can’t tell with this kid).

Gabe just pushes past him, William struggling behind him.

“Ryan!” He shouts into the store.

“Yes?” Ryan looks up from the book he is reading as Gabe approaches the front desk.

“You,” Gabe points a finger in Ryan’s face, “sold me charcoal the other day.”

“Technically, I didn’t sell you it since I didn’t charge you,” Ryan spits back.

“You gave it to me. And it’s caused a mess,” he turns to William and mouths sorry. William just shrugs.

“Charcoal tends to do that.”

Gabe lets out a long sigh. “No. William, just take off the glasses and scarf.”

William does as Gabe says, exposing his colourless face to Ryan. Ryan doesn’t looked all that shocked.

“Alright. Did you really come into a place like this and expect something magical NOT to be up with your art supplies?” Ryan snorts, as if creating real-life charcoal people is a warning on the label.

Gabe squints at him. Is he serious?

“What am I supposed to do about this?” He demands, slamming his fist down on the counter.

“I don’t know. You’ve got a new friend now. I don’t know what to tell you,” Ryan shrugs.

“Hey, c’mon. It’s fine,” William mutters, sneaking closer to Gabe. “Is it really that big of a deal?”

Gabe softens a little seeing William looking so distressed and nervous.

“You’re right,” he breathes. “Let’s just go.”

William nods in agreement. He pulls the scarf back up over his nose and shades his eyes with the sunglasses as he leads the way out of the store. Outside, he shoves his hands into his coat pockets and lets out a small sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Gabe asks, nearing William a bit more.

William just shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s- it’s just that… how am I going to live if I have to hide from everyone all the time?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Gabe lays a reassuring hand on William’s arm.

They continue walking back to the apartment. Once inside, William heads back to Gabe’s room to change into his clothing. Gabe starts searching cupboards for something to eat.

“So,” Victoria appears in the kitchen, “where were you two gone off to earlier?”

“The art store,” Gabe says, rolling his eyes. “Tried asking the employees for some advice on what to do. The only thing I got from them was basically being told that I’m an idiot for not knowing this charcoal was magic. It was a waste of time.”

Gabe pauses as he’s pulling out plates for lunch. William might want some food.

“William!” He calls out as he pads down the hallway. “Do you want anything to eat?”

No answer. Gabe knocks on the door. He waits a few seconds before knocking again. Nothing.

“Hey,” he says as he slowly opens his bedroom door.

He’s met with William’s bare back facing him. William is sat on his mattress, cradling his arm in his hand. He keeps turning it over and stroking the skin. Gabe is intrigued. Approaching William carefully, he cocks his head.

“Oh. I, woah,” Gabe is speechless once he’s facing William, looking down at his arm.

There’s a hand shaped blotch of colour marking William’s skin. Surrounding is all grey, but the area within it is a pale peach tone. William looks overjoyed, staring down at it with glistening eyes, tears threatening to spill over. He chokes out a laugh.

“How?” Gabe asks, kneeling down beside him and observing the print.

“It’s where you grabbed my arm earlier. Gabe, you made me colourful. You made me partially real.”

Gabe is stunned. “Wait, well, if I did that then this should be able to make you completely colourful.”

Gabe starts lightly tapping his hands over William’s back, his nose, his other arm. Nothing happens. He looks up at William sadly.

“Gabe,” William sighs, “I think it only worked because it was a genuine action, something you weren’t thinking too much about. Something full of care.”

Shaking his head, Gabe stands up. He doesn’t know what to say. His stomach is growling though, and he needs to eat.

“Can we talk about this over dinner?” Gabe asks, rubbing his stomach.

“Are you asking me on a date?” William says, jokingly.

Joke or not, Gabe still blushes. “Just come get something to eat.”

Gabe hurries into the hallway and curses himself for reacting like that. He needs to get over this. One week with the guy, and Gabe thinks he might be falling for him. A drawing really. His drawing. He feels like such a narcissist.

Victoria has already dished out three plates of spaghetti and tomato sauce when Gabe gets back to the kitchen. She hands one to Gabe. He thanks her and seats himself at the table, shoveling food into his mouth as soon as William walks into the room. He doesn’t want to say anything stupid.

William sits down at the table. Victoria says she’s going to eat in the living room because her show is on. So now, it’s just Gabe and William sitting at the table. Gabe stares down at his pasta nervously.

“What’s wrong?” William says gently, poking at Gabe.

“Nothing,” Gabe answers.

“No, there’s something bothering you. Tell me. It’s about me isn’t it. Listen, I’m sorry-”

“Stop,” Gabe bellows, cutting William off. “It’s about you. This will sound so dumb, I’ve known you for a little more than a week… and it makes me a huge narcissist, but I think I have feelings for you.”

“Oh. OH,” William’s eyes widen at the statement. “Well… first off, you probably know me better than anyone else, for as long as I’ve existed you’ve been around. Secondly, it doesn’t make you a narcissist. You created me visually, my personality and feelings I developed myself. And third, I think I feel that way too.”

Gabe’s jaw drops. “Wait, really? Are you sure? I mean I’m pretty sure I’m crazy.”

“You’re not. Maybe we both are actually,” William says to his plate of food.

“I’m fine with being crazy if it means you’ll be crazy with me too.”

William laughs a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I will be crazy with you.”

Gabe grins, full on ear-to-ear, radiating.

“Hey! I’ve got an idea. Here’s a necessary part of living: stargazing. You’ll love it, c’mon,” Gabe says excitedly, jumping up from the table and grabbing William’s hand.

“I’m not done eating, though,” William whines sarcastically.

Gabe just raises his eyebrows at him. They stop by the door to the balcony. Gabe ushers William through. He lays on the ground and motions for William to follow.

“Hey, look,” William pauses before laying down. He lowers his hand down to Gabe.

William’s left hand is now a milky peach colour, light and bright in the moonlight. Gabe can see the veins beneath his skin. Veins. There’s blood rushing through William’s body. Just like a real person.

“That’s amazing,” Gabe shouts, jumping up and wrapping William into a tight hug.

William buries his face in Gabe’s neck and hums happily. When Gabe releases him from the hug, his arms have left marks across his back. His leather jacket is black and shiny, his shirt red. William is looking down and smiling at himself.

“This is amazing,” he whispers.

William’s happy energy is contagious. Gabe can feel his brain buzz from excitement and his mouth spread into a giant smile.

“Okay, okay, but you still have to show me this stargazing thing,” William reminds Gabe, sitting down on the ground beside Gabe’s legs.

Gabe nods and lays down next to William. William quickly snuggled in closer to Gabe, resting his head on his shoulder. Gabe lifts his arm to point out constellations to William. William seems hypnotized by the stars. They reflect back in his eyes as he looks up to the sky, little silver specks against William’s glassy grey. He looks wonderful, and Gabe wonders how this happened. How did he manage this? Did he really fall for a person he made up? How did he ever manage to create someone so amazing and beautiful.

All those thoughts fall from his mind when he turns back to see William staring at him. He’s chewing his lip nervously.

“What are you-” Gabe starts, but is cut off by William pressing his lips against Gabe’s.

Gabe smiles into the kiss and reaches his hands up to William’s face. He can feel the skin under his palms warm as he touches it and he opens his eyes.

Colour is radiating from William’s face. It starts at his lips, shining and sparkling. Slowly, Gabe watches as it spreads across his cheekbones, over the bump in his nose and the crease in his chin. It drifts down across his neck as it also spreads up to his eyes. Gabe can finally see the colour of them, a dark chocolatey brown like his own, and they’re even better than he thought they could be. His hair is gaining colour as well, it’s a chestnut colour that drips over his shoulders and frame his face.

William is staring down at his lower half as colour leaks through it, his jeans turning dark blue and the skin poking out from beneath his shirt is light. He looks up at Gabe with a look of pure bliss in his eyes.

“I- I…” William trails off, an almost deliriously happy laugh escaping as he watches his shoes gain colour as well.

“True loves kiss?” Gabe suggests jokingly, elbowing William in the side.

“Ha, ha,” William laughs, fingers playing with his newly coloured hair. “Maybe.” 

Gabe smiles a little at this, and the pink blush that creeps into William’s cheeks.

 

 


End file.
